Striptease
by Erjika Tevkana
Summary: Chichiri loses a bet and pays the price. Please heed warnings!


Striptease 

Erjika Tevkana 

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Category:** humor  
**Summary:** Chichiri loses a bet and pays the price.   
**Warnings:** Innuendo, tiny bit of self-insertion (*sheepish grin* sorry!), and an OOC Chichiri!! He'd never really do this! (I think ^^;;) Lastly... er, just have an open mind. I can't say too much 'cos it'll be a spoiler, but have an open mind and don't say I didn't warn ya!  
**Feedback:** Greatly appreciated! ^_^ [sleeperdown@yahoo.com][1]  
**Website:** [http://www.dreamwater.net/pottedcactus/erjika][2]  
**Archive:** Yes!  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own em, no moolah for moi.  


"I can't believe they talked me into this, no da," Chichiri muttered to himself as he paced backstage. All he could remember from last night was a dizzying array of blurry images, filled with laughter and the scent of alcohol. He couldn't remember what got him to promise this that drunken night, but here he was. Chichiri sighed. 

The roar from the audience was growing louder. Taking a deep breath, Chichiri walked grimly to the curtains, his mouth set in a straight line behind his mask. 

As soon as he stepped on stage, he was nearly blinded by all the spotlights. While he forced his eyes to readjust, the screaming from the audience reached a climax. A thousand fangirls had come, just to see him. /One of these days, you'll look back on this and laugh/ he told himself. At the moment, that wasn't doing him much good. 

He forced a huge kawaii grin on his masked face. "NO DA!" he cried. Ten of the more inexperienced fangirls collapsed, either from Chichiri's appearance or from screaming too much. 

The music started up. Chichiri took of his kasa and tossed it out to the audience. One of the girls caught it, and was promptly taken to Taiitsu-kun's palace, where she was lectured by the wise woman on hormone control. 

In the meantime, Chichiri ripped off his mask. Thirty more fangirls collapsed. With a cute little smirk, he winked at the audience. Fifty sighs filled the air, followed by fifty *THUD*s. 

As the music picked up, he slowly unwrapped his kesa and tossed it to the ground in a purple flutter. Without it, his muscles were clearly defined through the thin shirt. The crowd went wild. 

After kicking off his shoes, he turned his back to the audience, and v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y took off the laces around his socks. Due to the rather form-fitting leggings he wore, along with a rather toned behind, one hundred and fifty more fangirls fell to the ground. 

Finally, Chichiri was beginning to enjoy himself. Although seeing hundreds of girls drooling in an estrogen-laden environment was a little intimidating... 

With a grin, he shrugged out of his shirt, all the time looking coyly out across the club. He slipped out of the sleeves, his fingers caressing his skin. Many sweatdrops were formed, many more *THUD*s followed. 

Now wearing only his leggings, he grabbed his staff and started twirling it around. "Let me show you what I can do with my stick," he growled at the audience with a lascivious smirk. Two hundred *THUD*s echoed across the room. 

On cue, glitter started falling onto the stage. Fifty Velvet Goldmine fans screamed "CURT WILD!" before joining their comrades on the ground. 

Chichiri's grin grew wider. He tossed his staff aside and turned back to the audience. With another teasing wink, his hands slithered down underneath his pants. More *THUD*s. He slid out of them, moss green pooling at his feet. And underneath he was wearing... boxers with little kawaii monkeys on them! Several girls said "awwww" at the adorable sight, before they too fainted. 

There was only one fangirl left standing, and she had a very strained expression on her face. Chichiri smiled deviously to himself. 

* * * 

Erjika had to control her breathing from the moment he took his mask off. She had promised herself she would hold out until Chichiri was in the state of complete deshabille, but it was very difficult, especially with the glitter... she shuddered and firmed up her resolve. 

And now she was the last one who had not yet fainted. And Chichiri was staring directly at her, with one downright ecchi expression on his face. Her defenses began to crumble. 

Thousands of images of Chichiri flew through her mind: chibified and nonchibified, with and without the mask, in various states of undress (and several compromising positions). Her brain shorted out, and with a sigh, she tumbled to the ground, the last fangirl to fall. 

* * * 

Chichiri grinned to himself. "It's over, no da!" He looked to the far back of the club, to a figure obscured in the shadows. 

The figure stepped forward, coalescing into a certain red-headed bandit. He sauntered up to the stage and straight up to Chichiri, his amber eyes smoldering. 

Tasuki smirked. The man before him was wearing nothing but monkey boxers and glitter, yet he still managed to look dignified. He took Chichiri's face in his hands, fingers gently caressing the scar, before pulling him into a long, sultry kiss. 

They pulled back at the same time, breathing hard. Tasuki leaned over, his tongue stroking Chichiri's ear. 

"How 'bout we take this backstage?" 

"Daaaa..." 

~finis~ 

   [1]: mailto:sleeperdown@yahoo.com
   [2]: http://www.dreamwater.net/pottedcactus/erjika



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